i want to spin but its dark

i wish i could do things right and i wish i had motivation to get up

Day 6: Magnus + Power

Magnus’ eyes snapped open. The steady strum of energy settling into his bones, holding him in its vice as he felt the barely restrained panic.

He closed his eyes and cast his magic out, feeling and searching till he felt that harsh tug.

Help me.

He was out of the bed before the thought was completed, snapping himself into new clothes as fast as he could blink.

He threw open a portal and dashed through, following that trembling bright blue thread, ringing so loud, he could hear it in his ears, vibrating and filled with fear… so much fear… so much pain.

He was going to rip them apart, from limb to limb.

When he stepped out of the portal, it didn’t come as a surprise to find that he was in a warehouse filled with Circle members. What was surprising was the fact that this particular headquarters was so close to the Institute.

Magnus sneered.

Of course the idiots that were the Clave wouldn’t think to look right beneath their noses for the Circle members. He was sure if anyone had mentioned their suspicions about the Circle members being that close to the institute, the Clave would have thought it ridiculous.

“I told you it would work,” someone said, sounding so calm and confident, Magnus decided that he would remove the man’s head first.

He turned his head and saw a man with blond hair, grinning like he’d just hit the lottery.

Magnus allowed himself to smile, and the blonde’s steps faltered, fear flashing in his eyes for a brief moment, and Magnus wondered if he was going to bolt. But then the man visibly pulled himself together and resumed the cocky stroll.


“Of course it would work,” another voice said and Magnus’ eyes swept through the room, the darkness seeming like day to him as he narrowed in on the one man at the back. In his hands he held a warlock child.

Her hair had matted over, tear tracks streaked across her cheeks. She trembled in his hands. But the one thing that made Magnus himself begin to tremble was the cut on her cheek, a long slice that had clearly been made by a knife.

“Who did that,” his voice cracked like a whip, and he watched the men gathered flinch. Even the ones who had been at their different corners in the warehouse, gathering weapons in preparation to storm wherever it was that they planned on heading to, all stopped what they were doing.

No one answered so he repeated the question. “I said. Who did that?”

The one at the back with his hands on the child, spoke. “I did,” he said, sounding extremely proud that he’d tortured a child.

Magnus’s fingers moved, lethal fast and coiled like a whip.

The man’s hands dropped, severed off from his elbows.

He screamed.

Magnus grinned, his smile sharp and biting as he felt his magic slowly rise.

Not the calmer one that he used when he didn’t want to hurt anyone.

No. This power wanted to maim. Wanted to kill. Needed to destroy.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured to the child. She dropped to her knees, raised both hands to cover her ears and did just that.

Magnus took a step forward.

“M…m…mercy,” he heard a thin voice cry out.

He turned to look at the man, a Circle member shaking so hard, a lesser man would have felt sorry for him.

Magnus smirked, letting his powers slowly seep through, showing his marks as clear as day, the one part of him that showed that truly they’d been stupid to bait him.

“Mercy,” Magnus asked, and followed it with a laugh, as hard and dark as the magic that had started pulsing out of him, searching for an escape, looking for what it could singe and eviscerate. “My father is Asmodeus, you fool.” His voiced echoed in the warehouse. He took a step forward. “And there is only one rule in his kingdom. Repay evil, with even more evil.”

And with that, he let his power loose, watching it ripple through, spreading its dark energy all across the room, bleeding and maiming and cutting.

They screamed, hair raising scream that echoed in the room, their screams merging with the sound of cracking bone and the wet sound of flesh separating from flesh.

And then he called out to it. Destroy. Raze. Leave nothing standing.

His power morphed, ever willing to answer his call. The building burned. Fire rapidly spreading, dancing on the walls like his magic did.

Everything burned but Magnus. Magnus and the little warlock child who still had her ears covered and stayed cowering on the floor.

He reached her and reached out, hands enveloping her form as he pulled her to him.

She went willingly with a terrified cry, keeping her gaze averted.

Magnus couldn’t blame her.

“Let’s take you home,” he said and threw a portal open, pulling her along with him as he left the warehouse and the Circle members in it to burn.

There’s something peaceful about watching something drip. The sound of liquid landing in a puddle is steady, grounding. Ripples are a beautiful kind of art, perfect circles in nature that fade off into infinity.

Lance has been watching his blood drip to the floor for nearly an hour now.

Drip, drip.

There isn’t much else to do, in the empty cave. There’s just enough light from the entrance about seven feet above him to see the dark puddle and the shaft sticking out of his armor through his stomach and keeping him in place. He shivers again, the numbness in his body traveling up and down again, and let his head drop against the wall he was leaning on, closing his eyes. He doesn’t doubt that he was going to die here. He had accepted it when he realized he can’t move and saw his helmet is shattered beyond repair.

Now, he’s just waiting for the blood to finally seep away completely, with his life carried along with it.

Drip, drip.

At least he can’t feel anything.

Lance rasps out a breath, and inhales. He hopes that no one would find him, because of what that would do to the team, prays that they just accept him to be lost in space, missing in action.

It’s his fault he couldn’t make the wormhole jump anyway. With Blue short circuiting, he should have retreated sooner than he did to ensure both of them got to safety. Now because of his poor judgement, Blue’s been blast to pieces and Lance is-

Lance is here.

He wishes his bayard hadn’t fallen so far when he landed in the cave. Then at least he wouldn’t have to deal with this waiting.

Drip, drip.

Thump, thump, thump. Lance’s eyes fly open, his faint heartbeat stepping up as much as it can.


No. He tries shouting it, but he can’t feel his throat.

“Lance? Lance are you there?”

“Don’t-” There’s a skidding sound outside, and then rocks tumble into the opening, along with dirt, dust, and a red paladin.


“Oh my god,” Keith murmurs faintly, dropping to his knees. He reaches to touch Lance, but recoils when his gloves come away soaking. “Ok. Ok,it’s ok, I’m going to get you out ok, I-”

“Keith,” Lance interrupts a little firmer, hoarse but there. “Don’t. Too late.”

Keith blinks, and then shakes his head, the rest of his body shivering with it. “No, no,” he argues, angry, so, so angry, “there’s-”

Lance presses a bloody hand to Keith’s helmet. “Please,” he begs, “don’t.”

Keith slumps in front of him, and grasps his hand, cradling it. “I’m sorry,” he breaths, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Lance squeezes his hand, and tries to smile as his head spins. It’s silent now, and Lance can feel there’s not much time. And just like that the fear makes its finale, filling every crack and crevice in the cavern and in Lance, dark, cold, and consuming.

“Keith,” he whispered, tears finally leaking, “don’t want to die.” He hears a sob before it’s just him and his thoughts again, and white sound washing over him, easing away the panic as best it can with the gentle promise of rest.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to-

Drip, drip.

I Should Run You a Hot Bath (and Fill it Up with Bubbles)

I guess I am officially hopping on the bandwagon. Here is my idea of a perfect afternoon at the end of a long college day- a bathtub and Bucky. With sexy times and Russian, of course. (I’m tagging you again @eccentric-heartbeats )

Some songs to listen to to get you in the mood: Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran and Wake Me Up by Ed Sheeran 

Keep reading


300 words a day thingy! Prostitue!loki! Sweet thorki!

“Hi there sweetheart.”

Thor’s driving with the window down, one elbow poking out, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, aviators on his hair and it’s hot outside and there’s this kid he picked off the street two nights ago walking out there with his hands in his pockets and the sweetheart gets his attention right away and he looks up.

They’re close to the ocean and the air is salty and that kid’s shoes aren’t laced all the way up. The laces leave thin trails on the burning sand that look like waves and there’s so much light all around that Thor can see the outline of Loki’s ankle through the black skinny jeans he’s wearing; he can see pale cuticles and veins twisting up towards his wrists looking like never-ending strings of wishes; soft wavy black hair tucked behind a delicate ear.

The kid blinks at him. Smiles a bit. Squints and shades his eyes with his left hand.

Takes him a few seconds to say something but when he does his voice moves with the wind and caresses Thor’s face.

“You sure about that?”

Thor glances through the windshield then back at Loki.

“About what?”

The kid looks over his right shoulder. The ocean’s there looking like a blank sheet of paper and-is that a sailboat rocking on the waves in the distance?

When he turns his head back to peek through the window of the moving car a curl slips from behind his ear and sticks to his cheek. Loki tucks it back and his fingers linger there for a while, ring finger folded behind his ear, pinky sticking up.

“The sweet part,” he says.

Thor drums a slow beat on the car door: thumb, pinky, forefinger; pinky, forefinger, thumb. And there’s this memory in his head just running laps all over the place: how he pushed Loki’s Heaven Is In Your Kiss t-shirt all the way up until it almost reached his chin, how he tugged on his skinny jeans with both hands and placed Loki’s left leg over his shoulder and with his strong fingers closing around that slim ankle licked a trail up his chest and sucked on one very sensitive nipple.

“I think I’m sure, yeah,” Thor says and tilts his head back a bit, “definitely sweet.”

Loki tucks both hands into his pockets, looks all the way up until Thor thinks Loki can see all the way to the spot where the last planet in the universe spins in its own divine darkness.

“Try lost, maybe?” he suggests and Thor frowns.

Thor chuckles but gives it a shot, “hi there lostheart.”

Loki smiles and his eyes twinkle, “see, now that’s a winner.”

“Pssh, yeah. Will get ‘em every time, huh?”

“You’ll get a ton of pretty boys hopping into your car in no time at all with that line.”

“I only want one,” Thor says and his voice sounds like summer.

The wind pastes the black t-shirt to Loki’s body and he grabs the front of it and gives it a gentle shake. The fabric creases. The left sleeve flies up and exposes his shoulder.

Loki tugs on the sleeve, trying to bring it down, “does it look like I’m working?”

Thor smiles and it’s all crooked, “you guys are like werewolves or something? Only starting to move around when the moon comes up?”

Loki runs his hand down his arm. Thinks about it for a bit.

“Maybe we’re like dying stars,” he says, “you can’t see us when the sun is up. But when it’s dark, we shine and show you the way, teach you how your hearts work.”

Loki looks down and the ocean glints in the distance like a broken piece of glass.

“And then we fall,” he says, “and you can never see us again.”

Then he squints at Thor and smiles more easy, “too depressing for a walk on the beach?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Thought so.”

Thor slows the car down ever more and Loki gives him a little grin.

“Tell ya what. Buy me some Dr. Pepper and I’m yours for a bit.”

Thor stops the car and his eyes move over Loki’s body, linger on his lips and playful eyes.

“How long?” he asks and Loki walks over to the passenger door and peeks in and he smells like strawberry and sunshine.

“Until my light burns out and I turn to stardust in your arms,” he says and the ocean exhales softly.

anonymous asked:

Some more WitchMercy and OniGenji perhaps? You did one a while back that I really enjoyed.

Its a really interesting dynamics. Here’s a new little spin on the two

  • Being strong, means getting strong attachments to the sinister forces that lurk near the shadows and at nightfall. Witch’s powers aren’t natural, never based off of anything good or lovely. If one wants witchcraft and curses, one has to summon a demon.
  • And so she did, needing more strength to continue her dark arts. The spell was easy enough, the chant a little less so, but she did it. Summoning a dark spirit, the mighty demon stood before her, trapped until it allowed her to draw its power.
  • Genji, he called himself, and The Witch made him her familiar. Tying her own soul to the dark creature. With a body of shadow and a mask of red horns and fangs. They vanished into the night, side by side.
  • Having her own life energy tied to the demon, they share life force, empowering the other. The demon is quick and powerful in the night, helping her enchant poor souls to her bidding. She keeps him safe and sound by her side, and soon finds him more to be an agent of chaos.
  • He is clever, and she finds him beautiful in every way. Already bound so close together, she feels the stirrings inside of him. Strange and foreign, but protective over her for reasons beside their ties. 
  • Some say, that the only way to get rid of the Witch that lies deep in the forest, is to kill the strange man at her side. That if someone where to end her lover, she’d die of heartbreak. Fade away back to the darkness that she is rumored to have come from. 
  • There is truth in rumors and lies. Though no one could ever get close enough to truly find out, for the Witch’s spells are powerful, and her demon is quick. 
“An evening in 1946″ Snafu Shelton Fanficion. Smut Mondays.

AN: Hello there sweet cheeks. It’s me again with a finally something I can all a good fic with our dear Snafu. I sincerely hope you will like this and I would appreciate a lot some feedback. Happy reading!

Title: An evening in 1946
Fandom: Rami Malek, The Pacific, BBC War series
Pairing: Reader x Snafu
Rating: Mature content present
Word count: 822

- - - - - - -

December 4th 1944

In a bit playful manner, a young man caressed your cheek and placed a soft kiss over it. “I am going to miss ya girl. It would have been extremely selfish of me to tell you to wait for me. I am not even sure how positive my return is. All I can say is, that when” a deep breath “-if I come back, I am going to give you a really big hug, pick you up in the air and spin ya’ around, just like when we were champs alright?” he said and smile lightly at you. “But up until then, I want you to treasure this…” Snafu said and handed you a medium sized bear with brown fur. Two black orbs as eyes and a big stitched heart over its chest. “Treasure the bear, I mean of course if you want to. I love you very much.”

And those were his final words. He stood up straight and blew you a kiss, before entering the dark green bus. And that was it, he went to war, just like that.

Two years later

After plenty of months, seven letters and approximately 468 sleepless nights, you couldn’t handle this, so called hell anymore. The war has ended two months ago, why hasn’t he came back? The only answer to that would be, yes you guessed it, that he died.

Of course, you saw a moment like this coming, but you never wanted to imagine how this would feel, how would you react to this. Then again, if he had actually died, his mother would have received a letter, and you would have been at least the third person to find out. But nothing was going on. Until… you heard someone entering the house. Damn it had gotten you terrified. You stood up from your bed, making sure your night gown is placed where it’s supposed to be. But to make sure you pulled a blanket off the chair and wrapped it around your body. Without thinking, you’ve made your way down stairs, glancing at the main entrance. Who was that.

You couldn’t see clearly, but you noticed a tall dark figure, tossing a heavy bag next to the door. The man removed his hat that was covering his eyes. It was him, he actually came back. He revealed his soft puppy eyes, sparkling in the dark. You then quickly grabbed a candle off a stand next to the end of the stairs, to take a better look at him, your hands shaking. “It’s you, i-it’s really you.” You muttered almost dropping the candle and causing a mess. But he helped placing the candle somewhere else.

Snafu wrapped his hands tightly around your body, placing several kisses over your hair. “Dear God I have missed you so much, still beautiful as always … I love you.”

“I love you too, so so so much.” You said with a wide smile and placed a loving kiss on his lips. Gosh he made you really weak. He picked your body up bridal style and carried you up the stairs to your bedroom. “There is something that I had pictured doing so many times in those sleepless nights when we were crossing the river..”

He made your body shiver, laying it down over the bed. “You look so wonderful…” mumbled and slowly removed your night gown of your body. Tossing it somewhere and placing hands over your chest, giving your lips a passionate kiss. “I sincerely hope you waited for me after all, I want to marry ya.”

He continued placing soft open mouthed kisses don your neck and shoulder, slowly transitioning to your torso, removing his hands so he can hold your hips, playing with your underwear. “Please I cannot wait any longer..” You mumbled and placed your hands over his back. To which he obliged and removed your pants. Then sat up and removed his uniform peace by peace. God knows when was the last time he had a proper shower but you couldn’t care. He laid down next to you and you couldn’t help but to touch his body, being in the army for two years, does something.

With all his might, he held his body over yours and slowly pressing his length against your entrance, pushing inside as gently as he could. You moaned loudly and held onto him. It has been a really long time. He pushed deeper and deeper, and once he was fully inside and began moving his hips slowly, thrusting his length in and out of you. Bringing your body over the edge in first five minutes of constant movements. Damn he was quick. The moans and pants were getting louder and more intense.

You kissed his lips passionately, allowing him to suck on your lower lip. He made every single thing about this enjoyable. And it went on like this, through the entire night.

I haven’t slept since I touched your hand,
traced the marks on your knuckles like they were holy.
The sun and I have been trying to read affection
into glances neither stolen nor given away;
the moon and I, in the after, have waned.
They say this is natural,
a process of ellipses and revolutions,
and certainly, mine is a planetary life,
half dark, half light,
tilted just so, and constantly spinning.
I think if I were a planet, I’d be fourth from the sun—
close enough to imagine its warmth,
bathe in the ghost of its light,
but too far away to touch. And yet
the textures of you,
the smattering of places
you allowed my aching hands to rest,
stick in my skull like stars, scattered
and unresolved into constellations.
I want to connect the dots;
I think I may recognize the shapes they make,
the tales and the tensions that feed their form.
The sky stretched between your fingers is familiar,
like one I’ve seen my whole life,
every sleepless night,
while the moon hides her face
and I await sunrise.
Tell me now—is that gray on the horizon?
—  alucinor 11.16 (s.s.)
Depressed Daughter- Tyler Joseph

Request- yoo hello i appreciate you - could i request a imagine where tyler’s the readers dad??and like the reader is his teen kid??? And is going through something rough?? If its okay? Hope you have a great day and i hope u fucin??sleep well?? cause u deserve it

Useless. It’s the perfect word to describe how you are feeling any given moment of the day. You couldn’t see happiness, you couldn’t find light. It was all just dark and your demons. You wanted so badly to feel for one day, just one day what it’s like to be special, to be known, to be important. But it was all too late for that now. As you lied there watching the ceiling fan spin you so badly wish you could take back what you just did.

You had been down the path once before and you defeated them. Your thoughts, your harm, and your anxiety, but it was back. You thought you were strong enough, but as you looked down at your arm that was freshly cut you knew you weren’t. It masked the pain but only for so long. You hated yourself for following into your dumb old habits. It had just been a year a few days ago that you had been clean and now this is what you call a relapse.

The memory was still fresh in your mind of your mom crying telling you she was there and loved you and the horrified look on your dad’s face when he saw the blood. You were so good at hiding it, but you forgot to lock the door. The one time you forgot to lock the door to the bathroom is when your mom Jenna walked and and saw what you were doing to your fresh cut skin. She called for your dad and he came running as your vision blurred. That was your first and last suicide attempt. You remember waking up and apologizing. You got the help you needed and you felt great again. Your therapists told you that you could start coming less because you had made so much progress. You parents were proud of you that you overcame that and they were glad to see the Y/N they once knew.

But now here you sat again. Tired, drained, useless, alone. You had your headphones blaring hoping to drown out all the demons. You were concentrating on the motion of the fan and the beats to the music taking you away. Away to a place you created that was so much better than here. It was a place of peace and love and only you could be there. There was no bad thoughts, there were no tears, there were no responsibilities. You slowly closed your eyes as you took a deep breathe. You so wished it was your last, but the cuts weren’t that deep.

“Y/N?” you heard a sad voice as your headphone were pulled from your ears.

You quickly opened your eyes sitting up and pulling down your sleeves.

“Oh hi dad. What’s Up?” you asked and he just looked at you.

He didn’t reply, instead he pulled you into a hug.

“No Y/N no. I love you, why did you do this? Don’t you see you’re so much better than that. You have so much potential.” he said and you started crying.

“I’m so sorry dad. I never meant to.” you sobbed as he held you close.

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not you and you’re stronger than this.You just have to talk to me, okay? Are your thoughts taking over you again?” he asked and you could hear tears in his voice.

You just nodded and he knew you couldn’t speak from all the tears.

“I need help. Please get me help. I’m so scared.” you sobbed so hard you felt like your throat was going to burst.

“Okay we’ll get you help. That’s all you needed to say. Me and mom will get you the best help we can get for you. We love you. Just breath for me.” he said trying to calm you down.

Soon enough your tears brought you to sleep. You woke up on the couch. Your head was in your dad’s lap and you mom was next to him. They weren’t looking at you, they were busy talking. You had a pounding headache and your arms were bandaged. Your mom probably did that for you.

“Ty we can’t loose her again. We have to get her help.” you heard your mom whisper.

“We are. She’s my baby and she always will be. We’re going to get her help. The best out there. I just don’t understand how she doesn’t see how amazing she is. I mean she’s gorgeous, hilarious, and the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I still remember the feeling I got when we found out she was a girl. I felt like my world was complete. I knew I was going to protect her with my life and sometimes I feel like I’ve failed her.”

“You haven’t trust me. She loves you but her mind is telling her differently. You’ve been there before and you know that those thoughts you had weren’t you. It was this illness that takes over your brain and body.”

“You’re right mom. It’s not me and I’m sorry.” you said and they both looked down at you.

“Honey I’m so glad you’re awake. We’re going to get you into therapy as soon as possible and you’re going to get through this again.” you mom tried telling you.

“How do you know?” you asked and before your mom could respond you dad was talking.

“Because you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I know because I’ve been in this same situation and although it seems like you’re a nuisance we would rather save you from this a hundred more time than lose you. Okay? You will never understand how much you mean to us and you one day you will have a family of your own and will say the same thing to your kids. I hope you never have to go through this again yourself or with someone else, but know this, we will be there with you the entire time. Even when we’re gone one day we will be right with you looking after you and making sure you know how special you are. You saved me once from my dark times and I will save you until the day I die.”

“I love you guys. I just want to get better.” you said realizing you have always had the best support right by your side.

A/N- Not my strongest piece, but I hope you still enjoyed it. Honestly I wish I had this when I was at this point in my life. 

I Can’t Save Her: Part 18

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Heartbreak, Panic Attacks, Drinking

Word Count: 2,407

Catch Up Here

Summary: You have been with the Avengers for three years and during that time you have developed a close friendship with Bucky. When you discover another woman in Bucky’s room you begin to question what your true feelings for him are.

Author’s Notes: This one was rough. Tags are at the bottom. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged/untagged.

I love your comments, messages, asks, likes, reblogs – all of it. <3

Originally posted by hey-kids-want-some-avengers

Originally posted by natasharromanova

Originally posted by darkcrownbitches

I woke later that night to what sounded like crowds gathering in the street. I stretched sleepily – forgetting the bruises covering my body. I winced as the sudden pain reminded me of previous events. I grabbed my phone from atop my nightstand to check the time. 11:50 on December 31st – that at least explained the noise from the crowds below. With everything that had happened I had forgotten about New Years Eve. I sat up in bed with a groan as I looked around the room. There was no sign of Bucky. As I fully woke from the fog of my sleep I remembered our last encounter and my heart sank. I was determined to find him and to start our new year on a better page. He needed to accept that this wasn’t his fault, but he also needed to tell my why these missions were impacting him so dramatically.

I got out of the bed and slowly made my way to Bucky’s room. I hesitated at the door before I finally knocked. There was no reply. “Bucky, it’s Y/N.” Still no reply. I opened the door to find the room dark and empty. As I was turning to leave, a note by his lamp caught my eye. I walked over to it and picked it up. I had the distinct feeling of my heart shattering into a million fragments as I read its contents.

Y/N, I’m sorry. In the end, it’s better this way. Don’t look for me – I don’t want to be found.


My head was spinning as I sat dumbfounded on his bed. I looked for anything else that could have been left behind, but the only thing I noticed was that something was missing – the photo album I had given him just days ago. I wouldn’t accept this – I couldn’t. I felt my throat constrict as my mind was overtaken with emotions that sent me reeling. I got up from the bed and stumbled through the hallway towards the common room. I could barely walk as I drifted back and forth between the walls of the hallway.  I felt like I had nothing left. I couldn’t comprehend it. As I entered the room everyone turned to look at me. I had forgotten that Tony was hosting a small party for the New Year. The atmosphere suddenly turned from fun to tense. I didn’t know what I was going to do or say until I saw Fury. Suddenly a rage I had never felt before unleashed from deep inside of me.

“You fucking bastard,” I tried to yell as I lunged towards him. Suddenly I was being restrained by arms stronger than my own – of course it would be Steve.

“Woah, Y/N! What the hell is going on?” Steve asked as I continued to fight against his grasp.

“If you hadn’t sent him on all those missions… Could you not see what they were doing to him? Or are you that fucking selfish? Are our lives just a fucking joke to you?” Every move I made and every word I said was causing crippling pain but it just seemed to fuel my rage. Fury looked at me confused. For some reason his expression complete disarmed me. I turned to look at Steve, who was still holding on to me, “Bucky… he was going on all those missions for Fury… and I could tell something wasn’t right Steve… I… I don’t understand.”

“Talk,” Steve said curtly as he turned to Fury.

“Listen, Barnes went on one mission against my advice – almost got himself killed in the process. After that I told him the mission was benched – it was too dangerous and he was too close to it,” Fury explained calmly.

“But…” I looked between the two men helplessly.

Steve looked from Fury to me. He was suddenly bristling with uneasiness. “What exactly was the mission, Fury? I don’t think any of us have gotten the truth about this.”

Fury turned to look at me. “It was about you, Y/N,” he responded.

“Me?” I asked shocked. My mouth had become dry and I way finding it hard to breathe again. “What could he…”

“He was trying to track down the people responsible for your parents’ deaths,” he added. “It was too dangerous and he was being too reckless about it so I stopped it. At least I thought I had stopped it.”

“Steve,” I whispered.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked frantically. I had turned as white as a sheet and my skin was turning clammy from the surge of panic that had erupted inside of me. I gasped for air. “He’s…. he’s gone.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he turned me around to face him.

“He left this…. He …. He’s gone.” I handed Steve the note as I began to sob. As my chest heaved I felt every type of pain I could have ever imagined. Steve’s face had gone white and his hand fell from me. Without the anger, without the shock – I had to face the reality that Bucky had abandoned me. The pain that had spread on Steve’s face slowly crept into my own heart until I was overcome by it. “I…. I can’t breathe….” I collapsed to the floor as I hugged myself tightly. I felt the cool band of his ring against my skin as I gripped my arm tightly – he had promised me and the ring was a symbol of that broken promise. I could feel myself unraveling at the thought as my eyes blurred with more tears. Steve stumbled back in a daze as Wanda and Nat rushed to my side. “He’s gone… I can’t breathe… oh my god… he’s gone.”

I vaguely remember strong arms picking me up from the floor and carrying me to my room. I had somehow reached a level exhaustion that bordered delirium—the dreams that followed seemed like a blend of reality and nightmares.

Dark – it was so dark that I felt disoriented. I turned to the sound of laughter – it was a little girl. She seemed so out of place here. I was dreaming – that much I knew. The little girl ran passed me with a squeal as she chased the ball she had thrown. There was something familiar about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  Suddenly there was a muffled scream from nearby. She froze – terrified of the noise. She turned quickly, as if someone had said her name from behind me, and she hurried passed me; abandoning her ball in the process. As I turned to see what or who had caught her attention the scene melted away.

I woke with a start. My entire body felt tense – there was something about the dream that terrified me to my very core, but I didn’t know what. I became acutely aware of the pain that spread all over my body as my chest heaved. The sensation of not being able to breathe was back and I was struggling. I jerked my head to the side and the pain deepened. Suddenly a warm hand covered my own as it laid twitching by my side.

“It’s okay kid. Just try to take slow steady breaths – it will pass,” Tony’s voice reassured me. I opened my eyes wearily and saw his blurry outline. I blinked several times as I tried to focus on him. “Kid – Bruce and I gave you something to help you relax. Everyone was afraid you were going to make your injuries worse which is hard to imagine…” he paused as he steadied himself. As my vision cleared I could see the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes from the party, but the shirt was untucked and wrinkled and the tie hung loosely around his neck. He looked at me concerned. I couldn’t stand the look of pity in his eyes – not from him. Not from the one person that was always so ready to trade the ‘I told you sos’ and cheap shots. I turned away from him and closed my eyes before drifting back to sleep.

This continued for the next few days. I would wake up in pain and open my eyes in hopes that Bucky would be sitting beside me. There would always be a kind and concerned face – Tony, Sam, Steve, Wanda, Nat, Bruce, and Clint. There was always some reassurance that we would find Bucky and bring him back. Every time I woke and he wasn’t there I only had the strength to drift back into my drug induced sleep. Honestly, I didn’t really know if it was the drugs or just the unwillingness to participate in a reality where the one thing I feared the most had happened, but I didn’t care.

Finally, one morning I woke up and no one was in the room with me. I didn’t feel loneliness or panic – I just felt relief. More than anything I wanted solitude. I needed to face and comprehend the things that had happened, but I didn’t want someone analyzing every sigh and tear as I did so. I slowly got up from my bed and assessed the tenderness of my muscles. To my surprise I didn’t hurt as bad which made me wonder how many days I had actually laid in the bed.

I quickly showered and threw on some clothes. I needed out of my room and out of the compound. I carefully evaluated the deep bruises that covered my neck. Ironically it was the only thing I had left to remind me of Bucky except for the ring on my finger. I twisted it anxiously. I had refused to take it off since he left. Part of me thought that if I wore it for long enough – maybe, just maybe, he would come back. When he had given it to me he had said that I could wear it to remind me of him when he was gone – my heart sank at the thought. Did he imagine this would eventually happen? I sighed as I wrapped a scarf gingerly around my neck to hide the bruises. I fished out a pair of sunglasses and a beanie from the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed my bag that held my laptop and wallet before leaving. I left my phone on the nightstand – I needed to disconnect from the people that knew me for awhile.

I made my way quickly down the hallway. When I passed Bucky’s room my heart sank and the tightness in my chest returned. I swallowed hard and quickly made my way to the elevator. Luckily the common room was empty so I managed to remain unseen and made it out of the compound without being intercepted by anyone. The streets of New York were bustling with no remnants of the massive New Years celebration. I walked with the flow of the traffic on the sidewalk. It was nice to be around people that had no idea who I was or what I had been through. It was like I was a ghost – melting into the New York scenery and the privacy around so many brought me an odd sense of comfort.

After twenty minutes of walking I found myself entering one of my favorite pubs. I quickly found a corner seat and ordered food before pulling out my laptop. I was determined to get to the bottom of what Bucky had been doing and where he had gone. I knew even if my friends had garnered information from the initial searches they wouldn’t let me know about it. Not right now – not with how I had acted the night he had left. I peered over my laptop to look at the clock on the wall – it read 10:30. I clocked that I had under 5 minutes to get the data I needed before Tony noticed that there had been a breach so I set to work.

I was about two minutes into my job before I was interrupted. “You know – usually I like for someone to at least ask me out for a drink before hacking all of my data,” Tony said casually as he slid into the booth across from me. I grimaced and closed my computer. “Find what you were looking for?” he asked casually as he waived for the waitress to bring him a drink.

“No,” I replied. I was embarrassed, but mainly annoyed. He must have been keeping tabs on me – so much for having a moment to myself.

“That’s because we haven’t found anything on Barnes,” Tony replied frankly. “You’ve got to give me some time – we will find him, but he’s not going to make it easy.”

“It’s my fault,” I said as I closed my eyes and pressed my palms into my temples.

“What is?” Tony sounded genuinely surprised.

“All of this,” I said irritably as I waived to my neck and laptop. I couldn’t process my emotions – they were a jumbled mess of anger, sadness, and betrayal. Tony didn’t answer as he continued to look at me. “If I had never… If I hadn’t ever let my feelings get in the way… He would still be here. He wouldn’t have gone on the stupid mission… and none of this would have happened. Don’t you get it Tony? It’s me… I’m the problem.”

Tony took a sip of his scotch and eyed me thoughtfully. Finally, he replied, “Kid – I’ve seen about every side of Barnes that there is, but I never saw him happy until you showed up. It wouldn’t have mattered if you admitted your feelings or not – he would have hung the moon for you if he thought it would make anything in your life better. You aren’t to blame. No one is. I’ll find him – you’ve just got to give me some time.” He smiled sadly and reached across the table to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. I looked down at my glass that I was holding tightly with my other hand and sighed deeply. “How do you feel? I know it’s a stupid question, but someone has to ask it.”

We sat in silence as I tried to articulate a response. I looked up from my glass wearily. “I don’t feel anything,” I finally replied.

“I know, kid – I know,” Tony responded as he motioned for the waitress to bring us more drinks.

Tags: (Please let me know if you would like to be tagged/untagged)

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i used to be a huge nico fan, never got people who favored chelsea girl to the marble index or desertshore (her & john cale were a dream team. they were darker, truer to her vision, a precursor to gothy post-punk [+elliott smith]) but now genevieve spins it a lot, i think i was too harsh. “these days” is delicate in its saturnine sentimentality, i get the appeal. that last line ruins me.

mostly i wanted an excuse to draw her. she was an alien kind of gorgeous.

Request: Cold

Request: So happy your requests are open!!! Your fic where the reader gets captured by a djinn is literally one of my favorite fics ever, I read it all the time!! Can you do a fic where Dean has the mark and the reader are having a fight and dean beats her in the heat of the moment? The reader is afraid of dean after this and sam has to comfort her. Then dean apologizes and FLUFF!?! If you decide to write this I would love you forever, can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,129

Thank you so so so much!! I really hope this is what you wanted, and have an amazing day<33

(Warning for violence and sort of trauma, I guess? Dean attacks the reader - it isn’t too graphic or anything, but if that might upset you please steer clear. I love you guys, and I’m always here if you need<3)

The bunker is cold when you walk in – so cold that goosebumps rise on your arms and your breath forms clouds before you, dissipating into the freezing air. You shudder, pulling your bag more securely onto your shoulder and slipping down the wrought-iron stairs, careful not to make too much noise.

There’s no sign of a fight of a struggle and it seems that you didn’t step into a cold spot, the entire bunker remains this icy temperature. You stop off at your room to grab a jacket and drop off your bag – all this time, you run into neither brother nor any sign that they’ve been here since you left. You’ve been gone a day. Maybe it’s some kind of prank?

“Dean? Sam?” You call out softly, your quiet footsteps feeling deafening in the library, “Are you guys messing with me?”

Nothing. Not so much as a peep – that is, until you hear a clatter coming from the armoury. You dart towards it, hand already going to the gun holstered at your hip. You fling the door open, and-

“Dean?” He’s sat at the table, a (quite frankly) terrifying range of weapons in front of him. Guns, knives; you’re pretty sure one of them is a grenade launcher. He isn’t even cleaning them or doing maintenance… he’s just sat there. Staring. He doesn’t even notice you as you cross the room, staring at all of the weapons.

“Did you turn the heater off?” You ask, rubbing your upper arms as your words turn to puffs of white air. He laughs, so small it could be considered a scoff, and shrugs.

“It got too hot.”

That isn’t the Dean you know. There’s no emotion in his voice, no sense of who or where he is. It’s terrifying that your Dean could just disappear, swallowed by this Mark-of-Cain-tainted monster.

“Okay… where’s Sam?”

“Out.” Is all he says, pushing himself up from the table. The chair screeches against the floor but he doesn’t flinch at the noise. He walks past you, muttering something about being in his room. His room, despite the fact that the two of you have shared a room since moving in here.

In honesty, you’re scared senseless. Now Abbadon is dead, you’ve done nothing but try to get rid of the damn mark but nothing is working, and it feels like every day you spend waiting for a solution, the further Dean travels down a road – and you don’t know how far he can go before he can’t make it back.

You give him a half-hour – you turn the heating system back on, then make yourself a warm cup of coffee and pull on a hoodie to keep yourself warm in the meantime. Then, you slip into your bedroom, waiting in the doorway. Dean stands, not looking at you, his hands balled into fists by his sides.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You ask softly, wrapping your hands in your sleeves, “It’s a lovely day outside, maybe the sunshine would do you some good.”

He doesn’t turn, but audibly sighs as if you’re a great burden on him, “I’m not deficient in vitamins, Y/N.”

“I never said you were.” You defend, “Come on, Dean, you can’t stay cooped up in here all day.”

“I’d rather be in here than out there. Just leave me alone.” He says, his voice void of all emotion. You lean against the doorframe, shaking your head slowly.

“Dean, come on. You can’t just stew yourself like this.” When he turns to look at you, you straighten yourself – there’s something terrifying in his eyes and you can’t relax when they’re fixed on you like that, “Please, come outside for an hour. We could drive down to the diner or-“

“No.” He says simply, advancing on you, “Y/N, you have absolutely no idea what is going on. Stop trying to fix things you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand!” You insist, “I want to help you. I want to make this better and you keep pushing us away!”

“Because it doesn’t get better!”


“Does it ever occur to you,” He’s towering over you by this point, glaring daggers straight into your soul, “That there may be no cure for this? That this is just how it’s going to be from now on?”

“If it goes on, it comes off. That’s the way it works. Get over yourself, Dean, and do something practical for a change.” You can’t help the anger. You know you shouldn’t, that any malice he sees in your words will be magnified a thousand times to him but… you can’t help it. You turn sharply on your heel and stalk out of the room, into the corridor.

You weren’t expecting him to follow. You definitely weren’t expecting to be shoved to the ground, or for him to lend on top of you, slamming your face into the ground.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” He snarls, his breath hot on your ear as he bends down, “Ever. You owe me, Y/N, don’t you ever forget that.” His hand wraps around your neck, blocking any air from getting into (or out of) your lungs. You struggle, but it’s pointless – on a regular day, you could fight him off, but the mark seems to have given him a strength not even an experienced hunter such as yourself can beat.

“Dean!” Your vision is quickly clouding, black spots expanding in your peripherals, but you still hear Sam’s voice. Suddenly Dean’s weight is dragged off of your back and he lets go – your vision clears almost instantly as you gasp in air, clutching your throat. You scramble away from him – Sam shoves his brother back into the bedroom, snapping words at him that you can’t quite make out. He returns to you quite quickly, taking in your bloodied nose and quickly-bruising neck.

“Oh, shit, Y/N,” He looks you over, trying to make sure that you haven’t been otherwise hurt, “Did he-“

“No,” You try to say, but it comes out as more of a pathetic rasp than anything else. You flap a hand at him, “Go, make sure he isn’t-“ As if on cue, an almighty crash comes from the bedroom and Sam flinches, squeezing your shoulder gingerly before standing back up, shoving the bedroom door open.


It’s a while before you pull yourself out of the spare room you’d hidden yourself away in. You’d rather not altogether, but you’re starving and sore and you seem to remember Sam having a heat pack hidden in the kitchen somewhere for post-hunting aches and pains.

In fairness, your injuries could have been worse – your nose took a while to stop bleeding and your cheekbone is bruised, your ribs ache, and your neck is black and blue, but you’ve dealt with much worse. It’s not the what that turns your stomach, it’s the who and the why.

You shuffle to the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink and putting the heat pack in the microwave to warm up. The bunker has warmed back up but the atmosphere is decidedly cool. You lean against the countertop, your hands braced on its edge as you sip your drink, watching the plate spin around and around.

“Y/N?” You didn’t hear Dean approaching but before you know it, he’s right behind you. You have a gun pressed to his chest before he can so much as take a breath, your hands visibly shaking, “Hey, hey, okay,” He holds up his hands, watching as you flinch. He backs off quickly, his eyes wide with concern, “I- I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

It’s him again – you can almost see the warmth emanating from him, but it’s obscured by the memory of the darkness ill-concealed in his emerald eyes, the anger; the malice. His hand around your neck, relentless, and the smear of crimson blood on the floor. Who knows what he would have done if Sam hadn’t been there to drag him off?

You don’t realise the tears are streaming down your face until they obscure your vision completely. Through the kaleidoscope blur of your sight you see Dean retreating, nearly running from the room. It’s a long moment before you lower the gun, sinking down until your knees are against your chest and you’re curled against the unit, the microwave beeping distantly in the background.


“Y/N?” You heard Sam coming from a mile off – you’re almost entirely sure he exaggerated his footfalls just to make sure you did. For a man of his height, he moves incredibly quietly.

You roll over, slowly sitting up, “If you’re here to get me to talk to Dean-“

“I’m not.” He says, slowly closing the door behind him. He sits on the bed beside you, “He told me what happened.”

“Oh.” Is the only reply you can muster. There isn’t much else to say. Sam smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders affectionately – if there’s one thing you can always count on the younger Winchester for, it’s a bit of brotherly love.

“He does feel awful, Y/N. You know what he’s like. Even if you decide to forgive him, I doubt he’ll ever forgive himself – not to make you feel guilty. You know that’s not what this is about.” He says softly. You nod, knowing what he says is bound to be right.

“I know.” You affirm, taking a deep breath.

“And we will get this off of him. I promise. No matter what it takes.” He assures you, “But, if in the meantime, you want to go somewhere else, we won’t be offended or upset. I’ll understand completely and so will Dean.”

You can only stare at him, “I’m not going anywhere.” You insist, “This is your mess and his mess and my mess. I’m not running away from that. No matter what.”  

He smiles, “I figured you’d say that. But we accept that you’re hurting and if you need time away-“

You shake your head vehemently, ignoring the pain it sends through your neck, “Absolutely not.”

“That’s my girl,” Sam kisses your head affectionately, “Listen, I just… I mostly wanted to tell you that Dean is sorry. He’d tell you himself but he thinks he’s going to make it worse. And he’s nothing to be scared of – just… maybe we shouldn’t leave him alone from now on. I think that might be a trigger, you know?”

You nod, “You’re probably right. We’ll keep an eye on him.” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair, “Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem.” He squeezes you once more and stands up, “We’re going to watch a film in my room later. You’re more than welcome to join, as always – there’ll be snacks.”

You can’t help but smile, nodding, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


There’s no denying that Sam’s words helped, but it’s still incredibly difficult to force yourself through his bedroom door. You hesitate at least three times before mentally slapping yourself and pushing it open, fixing a smile onto your face as you head inside.

“Y/N,” Dean stands up as soon as he sees you, his eyes widening in surprise – he hadn’t expected you to come. You crack a small smile, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I didn’t want to miss movie night.” You say softly. Dean approaches you – Sam watches warily, but when you don’t flinch or back off he smile a little, pretending not to watch the exchange.

“Shit, Y/N, your face,” He whispers, “I’m so-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, “I know you are. But you don’t need to be, Dean.” You say earnestly, reaching out and touching his shoulder, “The past few months have been hard on all of us – you more than anyone. I know that wasn’t you.”

He’s about to protest, but before he can say anything you move forward, wrapping your arms around his middle. He hesitates, but melts into the embrace and wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers, the words quiet enough that Sam can’t hear them, “I love you so much. I swear, Y/N, we’ll fix this.”

You smile, looking up at him, “We will. Because we always do.” You lift onto your tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I love you, too.”

Sam chooses that moment to couch pointedly, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. You share a laugh and Dean lifts you up, sitting down on the couch and setting you in his lap, his arms remaining around your waist. You settle into him, your head resting on his shoulder comfortably.

He’s warm and comfortable, and even if it’s just for a few hours, everything feels like it should.

Christmas Memories (KBTBB x MC) (Fluff)

To read my other works: Masterpost

Based on this angst prompt: “Why is the room spinning?”

“Why is the room spinning?”

I desperately tried to make sense of the world as it tilted in its axis. I was more worried that I would stain the carpets at the penthouse. Although I do wanted to work until work was the only thing left for me to focus on. I don’t want to create any other unnecessary work but if it helps keep the demons at bay, I would do that.

“Why is the room spinning?”

Those were the last words I uttered as the tray that held the champagne and flutes swayed and escaped from my hands. Falling. I was going to fall. And no one was going to catch me.

“Hey! Kid…”

The world went dark.


It was still dark when I opened my eyes.

No. Not entirely dark. Blinking lights from the outside came from the open windows. By the corner, there was a glow from a cigarette and smoke being blown soon followed.

“Please tell me I slept for an entire day,” I pleaded.

The red light was extinguished as the cigarette was put out in an ashtray. “Nah, kid. Still half an hour to Christmas Eve.”

I put a hand over my mouth and desperately tried to suppress a sob. It escaped anyways.

Mamo stepped into the light, his face stoic. “I might not be the best detective out there but from what I have seen and heard from the others, you’ve been running yourself ragged for this entire week. Work from day until late at night.You even signed up for a shift on Chrismas Eve and day. I know you’re trying to work hard to pay off the debt but..”  The bed dipped as he sat beside me. “What are you running from, kid?”

I slowly sat up. The world continued to spin, awaiting this special holiday. All I wanted to do was skip it. “I should apologize to Eisuke for breaking that expensive champagne. He’ll probably put it on my tab anyways.”

Mamo focused on my face. “And you’re not answering the question.”

Even with thoughts of despair and pain, anger flared up within. “And stop trying to interrogate me! I don’t answer to you!” Which was not true since they did buy me from the auction. They own me. But even someone cornered would retaliate.

He did not raise to the bait.

The silence was suffocating.

“I just don’t like Christmas. It’s all just…bad memories.” My hands curled on the sheets.

“So why not make new ones?” he asked if that was the most simplest thing to do.


He caught my chin with his hand. “Because everything moves on. And so shall you.”

Before I had time to reply, he released my chin and grabbed my hand, almost dragging me roughly out of the bed and room. We stopped in front of the door that lead to the lounge. He placed himself behind me, both of his hands firm on my shoulders. I know everyone would be behind the door. I don’t think I can handle any more questions.

“I can’t.” I took a step back but he stood his ground.

Mamo leaned down and whispered to my ear, “Would it be really so bad to make new memories with us?”. Again, there was no chance to respond as he pushed us in.

Eisuke was the first one to notice us. “Ah…so she’s awakened?”

Baba and Ota hurriedly came over. “Lady, I hope you’re not getting ill.” Baba held one my hands and kissed the back of it.

“Yeah! All work and no play makes Koro no fun!” Ota tugged at the other hand as Mamo continued to usher me in from behind.

Soryu sat on one of the solo chairs and made a rare comment, “You’ve worked hard plenty enough.”

They both me sat me down on the couch, expressing excitement and relief that I was there with them. Mamoru lit up another cigarette as Eisuke shouted words that he was tired of burn marks on the carpets. Like I was, Soryu was content on sipping his drink as the other chatted. The guys went all out as the penthouse was decked out with Christmas decorations and ornaments. Over the corner, a huge Christmas tree with extravagant trimmings and lots of presents underneath.

“Almost time for the main event!” Eisuke declared. Being a gentleman for the first time ever, he held out a hand to me. Is this what is Christmas like? A time for miracles? I grasped his hand as he gently pulled me up. He led me to the Christmas tree that was still unlit and handed me the star. “Since it’s your first Christmas with us, you’ll have the honor this year.”

I clutched the star close to my chest. A tightening started in my breast and if anything else happened, I was afraid I would unleash the floodgates. I just nodded and gave him a smile.

Until I found out that I was not tall enough. Instead of getting a chair or a ladder for me, Baba volunteered to be a step stool. “No peeking!” I warned him since I was still wearing my maid uniform.

“I’ll behave, my lady!” Baba promised.

I stepped on his back but it was still not enough height for my hand to reach the top.

Without any warning, Soryu strode over, put both his arms underneath my armpits and hoisted me up. I stretched and finally was able to get it on top of the tree. I don’t know if it was deliberate but I was slowly lowered down all the while brushing my body against Soryu’s. I turned around and thanked him. He blushed.

With great flourish, Eisuke turned on the Christmas lights. Baba and Ota popped some confetti and Mamoru handed me a glass of bubbly.

“What are we toasting to?” Ota asked.

I smiled. “To new memories!”

Mamoru toasted with a grin.

Bonus: I stretched my arms overhead and almost purred in satisfaction. Sunlight poured into the floor of the penthouse lounge. I must have fallen asleep on the floor. I sat up as a blanket fell from my shoulders.

I gasped.

What the hell was I wearing?

Silk purple robe untied. Underneath was red lingerie with matching thong and garter tights. On my neck was a lace collar. I felt something on my head which was a headband of fluffy cat ears. I immediately pulled the blanket up to my chest.

Someone snored.

This made me realize that they all fell asleep in a circle around me. Mamo on my right, Soryu on my left. Eisuke was the top of my head while Baba slept towards my right leg and Ota on the opposite leg.

They were also all naked from the top up!

I giggled. Memories indeed!


Author’s notes: My fluffy contribution for Christmas. What started out as a depressive day for me turned out into this Christmas fluffy. Readers, can you guess who gave what to MC? Merry Christmas!

For those of you who wanted to see my alethiometer divining watch thing in action, here you go! The video quality isn’t the best, but you can see the way the needle moves and the general way this device works. Sorry the symbols themselves are so blurry-looking; this little thing is far from new and sort of shows its age, plus the lighting wasn’t great. If anyone wants me to give it a spin for you an attempt to interpret the symbol in regards to a question you might have, send me an ask, but I apologize in advance if I don’t get to everyone, and also want to note that I normally only use this to read for myself, so I cannot say how good I am at reading with it for other people!

Nick rummaged though the chaos called the armory. it had been a few hours since his agreement with Mimi and now camp was in full spin. Kids and teenagers were running around doing their different activities. that being said the armory was pack with kids coming and going to grab that average sword to train with but nick was looking for something a little more permanent for Mimi. “ I am sure we can find something for you but its all up to you. do you want to be quick with a dagger maybe a normal sword that can defend as well as attack. or even a gun but those are hard to take care of.” He opened up his jacked and a sawed of was hanging from the darkness.“ I speak from experience and the ammo is a bitch”


iprincesslunastuff  asked:

Caylespo and Leo. Sorry I forgot how to spell her name

VALYPSO  or caleo

i am going to hold my ground on that ship name because caleo sounds like what we call callouses in my native language

  • Who would win tickle wars:
    • Leo because kid is relentless and just loves watching calypso squirm and laugh
  • Who would draw pictures of the other in their sketchbook:
    • Leo. It started when he was sketching some new machines he was going to build that he was distracted by Calypso while she was helping out in the garage. He didn’t notice his fingers were sketching her. It wasn’t that good and he didn’t expect it to be but he leaves it in his notebook anyway. Calypso stumbles upon it one day and she can’t help the smile on her face.
  • Who would holds hands while walking:
    • Leo says its Calypso but really Leo likes it more.
  • Who would gives cheek kisses:
    • Calypso just because Leo can’t angle a good cheek kiss. Every time he tries he hits an eye, a nose, and sometimes just air.
  • Who would start a snowball fight:
    • Leo but Calypso would end up winning.
  • Who would slip the most on a date to go ice skating:
    • Leo while Calypso performs like a ice skater routine with spins and everything.
  • Who would bring lunch to school/work for the other:
    • Calypso because she needs to make sure he eats, sometimes when he’s really into a project.
  • Who would want cuddle at the movie theater date:
    • Calypso because its dark and she wants to sneak in some kissy stuff and I mean Leo won’t complain ever.
  • Who would buy cheezy cliche gifts for each other on holidays:
    • Leo definitely but then that gift would turn into an awesome gift like literally turn into something awesome. Gods he’s a great mechanic.
  • Who would start an argument about what color curtains they should have at home:
    • No one would start because Leo would go with whatever Calypso wants because they both know who has the better sense with these things.
  • Who would remember their anniversary:
    • They both would and they both have presents for each other.
  • Who would blurt out how much they love the other in front of people:
    • Leo because he want everyone to know. He won’t shut up about it. He seriously will not shut up.
  • Who would offer to wash the others back in the shower:
    • We all know its Leo
  • Who would post up statuses about the other on facebook:
    • Leo and it would be things like “Calypso just made me this *picture of breakfast feast* best girlfriend ever” or just a stolen pic of her with the caption “ain’t she pretty?”
  • Who would have the others picture as their phone background:
    • Leo because when everything is a mess he likes to look at his phone and at least have something that isn’t up in total flames
  • Who would take pictures of the other while they’re sleeping:
    • Both of them
  • Who says I love you:
    • But when Calypso says it to Leo he replies with a look that is almost like a mix of amazement and disbelief thinking ‘how can a girl like that love a someone like me’ and he wants to ask ‘you do?’ but he just goes with a quiet I love you too because he does he really really does.
Playing His Game

Submitted by: thesewordscanchangeus

Description: Nogitsune!Stiles kidnaps Lydia, and he starts making moves on her, and Lydia is totally turned on by badboy Stiles but tries to resist his charms

Rating: T

Genre: Thriller, Canon Divergence, Nogitsune!Stiles

Authors Note: I didn’t really want to make Lydia out to be somewhat one dimensional so I hope this will suffice :) 

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“La Loose” is a song of love and longing, though dark at its edges with feelings of ambivalence. I wanted the video to be a visual equivalent to the song lyric, “a charming picture of hysteria in love” – a spinning emotional kaleidoscope of desire and rejection, adoration and anger, hope and despair. For this reason I set the video in mirror-twin locations: an abandoned, haunted amusement park and a thriving farm out of a beautiful dream”

video for ‘La Loose’

directed by Naomi Yang

On Androgyny

Jaw sharp, eyes dark, skin soft, lips warm.
He makes me shiver, she makes me weak.
Does it matter if the hands that touch are his or hers?
They are the same hands, the same fingertips either way.
A body pressed to mine - I could label it if you want me to - but “they” fits better on the tongue.
The perfect blend of two, its boy and girl and he and she and they are making my head spin again.
Don’t choose a term, don’t make me choose, stay both, stay perfect, stay you.

-Jesika Marie